


The Booty Call

by mickeylovesian



Series: Gallavich One Shots [8]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-08
Updated: 2013-09-08
Packaged: 2017-12-26 00:18:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/959318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickeylovesian/pseuds/mickeylovesian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the first time, Mickey goes to the Kash and Grab for more. What was he thinking?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Booty Call

Mickey lit his third cigarette and loosened the scarf around his neck. He was freezing, but he was biding his time and the alley gave him a perfect view of the Kash and Grab. The bitch had left twenty minutes earlier, the two brats following behind her and now he could see the towelhead putting on his coat. 

Fuck, he thought. What was he doing there? What the fuck was wrong with him? Was he really going back for seconds? He had never done that before, and yet here he was, waiting for Gallagher to be alone. 

He still had a hard time remembering how it had all started. If there was any blame to be placed, it fell on Mandy. If she had never fucking opened her big mouth he wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place.

When she had first told him that the younger Gallagher had tried to rape her, he had laughed. Growing up just a few blocks away from the Gallagher’s meant that they had known each other for most of their lives, even if he had never really said more than two words to the redhead. He highly doubted that the ginger was that sort of person, but either way, he had done something to upset Mandy, and no one did that. 

So, he had gone after him, and even after Mandy had called him off, he still found himself at the Kash and Grab. While he had gone there his entire life, he knew it was for a slightly different reason now. There was just something about him that Mickey was drawn to, even though he wouldn’t admit it. 

He did, however, have to admit the kid had balls. You either had to be really brave, or really stupid—and Mickey knew how fine that line was—to barge into his house and threaten him with a tire iron of all things. Mickey liked that stupid bravery in a person. 

The fight that ensued had turned him on more than he liked to admit. Gallagher fought back; didn’t just take it like a bitch. He always liked those types of fights best; beating someone senseless as they curled into a ball was no fun. 

Maybe it was just because it was the morning, maybe it was the fact that the scrawny kid could hold his own, or maybe it was just Gallagher himself, but as he pinned him down, his erection had been hard to hide through his sweatpants. Mickey felt it, Ian saw it, and it that moment he just knew. 

It happened in a blur, and it wasn’t until they were both lying there naked, not speaking, that he actually stopped to think about it. When his father walked in, his heart stopped, sure he was going to be murdered then and there. He held his breath the entire time, not letting it out until he heard his father in the kitchen.

It was then he realized how reckless they had been; they hadn’t been caught, but it could have ended really badly. After handing over the gun, he vowed to avoid Gallagher for the rest of his life. 

So what the fuck was he doing here? Why was he waiting for him to be alone? How had he even ended up here? All he knew was that he had been horny, and the first thing he had thought of was that stupid freckled face. He had left his house and just walked towards the store. 

Kash left, and still Mickey stood in the alley, lighting another cigarette. He’s just a good fuck. That’s it. And he’s not a fucking idiot, Mickey thought. Although he hadn’t specifically mentioned for him to keep his mouth shut, he knew he would. He was Southside and knew what happened to guys who fucked guys.

So what if he went back for one more good fuck? The little shit wasn’t going to say anything, wasn’t going to try and kiss him again, and most certainly wasn’t going to develop feelings for him or anything gay like that. He was just going to fuck him. And that’s all Mickey wanted: to get laid. It was as simple as that, he thought as he dropped his cigarette and crossed the street. 

Ian was behind the counter, handing some woman her change when Mickey walked in. Fuck, what do I say? 

“You got any slim jims in this shithole?” What the fuck was that? Still, Ian came from around the counter and locked the door. Mickey looked around to make sure they were actually alone. As he walked by Mickey, he caught his eye.

“Yeah, in the back room,” he said. Mickey bit his lip to hide the smirk that grew across his face as he followed Ian to the back, both of them beginning to undress on the way. 

A half hour later, as Ian unlocked and opened the door, Mickey behind him, he said, “So I guess this was like a booty call, huh?”

Mickey put his scarf around his neck, half looked back at Ian and said, “Whatever.” Then, for some reason, he added, “See ya.”

Fuck, he thought as he crossed the street, that was a good way to end it. Even as he thought that, however, he knew it wouldn’t be the last time. How much damage could a third time do?


End file.
